A Needlepoint House

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At the turn in the stair, Duck’s needlepoint…which took two years and kept him from smoking, a wonderfully gestural bowl from Nayarit, and a duck from Bali.

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Himself: Made the shelves for the spice drawer. Hit an estate sale. Applied for two jobs. Herself: Cleaned out two dresser drawers. Went to work at the Cancer Society then bought a cook book at an estate sale….Henry Haller’s White House Family Cookbook. I’m spoiled rotten and am seizing the moment. Reading: Stevenson tho two Cadells have shipped. Balance: Gratitude. Took four boxes of stuff OUT to the Cancer Society and Lessa to recycle yesterday.

This Super Bowl Sunday, I’m puttering. Making a home, I call it. My daughter Lenora said I have become obsessive about having a neat home, but she isn’t taking into account the outside factors that influence me each day.

This day, I have no interest at all in the Super Bowl. None. But he's downstairs working on the cupboard so I'm sticking around.

I do have an interest in the new quilt I am working on. The fabric smelled and got washed. Now, before I can cut my squares and strips, I need to iron it all. Can I get my new to me, fifteen dollar Rowenta iron to work more than an hour? No. Frustration is an outside factor today.

So instead, I entertain myself and take pictures of my new finds and share them with you. Needlepoint. I haven’t quite got the colors right, but you will understand.


Here a small Italian hillside village. I found it in a back room of an old Edwardian home where the roof leaked. Seven bucks. The white isn’t fully stitched. Maybe someone else was lazy, but it cheers me.

And I am lazy. That’s really an everyday, major factor in my life. The less work I do, the happier I am. Laziness is at the core of my being. Lenora called our house “lived in” when she was a child. Now I am trying to live a colorful life with the less is more technique. She didn’t notice the foot prints in the bathtub, did she?


It’s a cheerful little embroidery sampler that’s lived much of its life near the water. The framing job is awful. I got it for four bucks….last week. I kept revisiting the piece, and we even drove back to get it along with a waffle iron for Lessa when she said she wanted one.

Less doesn’t mean painting over the dirt, I used to do that, but less lately means finding décor at other’s sales while getting rid of the old. When I decided on a Victorian style bathroom upstairs, who knew I would be decorating with stitchery’s. Now the darned things have crept into the living room.

Stick something colorful in one spot, and leave it alone. That’s me. Lazy. Not doing the stitching myself. Letting someone else dust the stuff. Making a room. Making a home. Puttering. Letting other’s drink the beer and carry the ball.

Making something out of nothings as usual.


I’ve always been interested in embroidery. This one was the first I found. Badly framed, it’s still charming.


A marvelous red toucan from Guatemala and a sampler pillow to match.